


Fantasie-Impromptu (in C♯ minor Op. posth. 66)

by ellievolia



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Falling In Love, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Piano, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Unreliable Narrator, mentions of markhyuck, tender horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:41:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellievolia/pseuds/ellievolia
Summary: Working title: Doyoung Realizes He's SexyNow, this is Johnny, so of course said birthday wish is to live what he had the guts to call the ‘wholesome strip club experience’. Honestly, Doyoung is sort of surprised that Johnny, at what is now 27 years of age, has not yet gone to a strip club. It feels like a lie, but again, on his birthday, a bottle of wine in, Doyoung’s not going to call him out on it.(aka: Doyoung, an uptight pianist, meets a free-spirited stripper, and embarks on a journey of self-discovery. And also falls in love.)
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Jeno
Comments: 20
Kudos: 118





	Fantasie-Impromptu (in C♯ minor Op. posth. 66)

**Author's Note:**

> Just for reasons of Jeno being able to drink legally in the US where the fic is set, this is set a year in the future. 
> 
> I often find it a little silly when we say 'this took a village', but for this one, it's actually the case. Thank you to Ro, Jess, Mel, Sarah, Kels, and Nami for the daily cheerleading! Thanks to MissP, Von, and Sea for the beta work! Thanks to Jess and Charlie for the moodboards! I really only was able to write this because of you. 
> 
> Anyway this is my first NCT fic, I wrote it in a week in some sort of feverish stupor, and I hope you all enjoy!

Doyoung really ought to whine a bit about this. It’s 11pm on a Friday and he’s walking into a tiny underground club, right behind Johnny and right before Taeil, feeling like he should be in bed at this point. Technically, it’s almost _not_ Johnny’s birthday anymore, but what kind of friend would Doyoung be if he really said no to realizing one of his best friends’ birthday wishes? 

Now, this is Johnny, so of course said birthday wish is to live what he had the guts to call the ‘wholesome strip club experience’. Honestly, Doyoung is sort of surprised that Johnny, at what is now 27 years of age, has not yet gone to a strip club. It feels like a lie, but again, on his birthday, a bottle of wine in, Doyoung’s not going to call him out on it. No, what he’s going to do is change shirts from the one he was wearing while they were hanging out at home to something a little tighter (still black, though), and then follow right along. Considering how Johnny had them pile up in a Lyft with an address on the tip of his tongue, it seems like it was an entirely planned event. 

So now here they are, and of course Doyoung is also the one to be getting the first round of drinks while they wait for the first performer to step up to the stage. “Remind me what you said you want?” he yells in Korean to get their attention over the noise that his friends are making, as well as the music, and Johnny stands back up to yell back, making Doyoung wince - no matter that he started it. 

“Strawberry Woo Woo!” Johnny replies in English, and Doyoung nods to himself, turning back around. Behind the bar, there’s a poster advertising that Friday nights are male dancers only, which Doyoung thinks is lucky for him. Johnny has never really cared about gender, which Doyoung witnessed multiple times when they were rooming together at Juilliard. He spent a lot of nights on Yuta and Taeyong’s dorm floor while Johnny made his way through the entire ballet company. The. Entire. Ballet company. 

He’s at the bar trying not to touch anything as he waits for the jug of whatever cocktail they decided would be their drink of choice when he hears a chuckle close to his ear, close enough that it’s easily audible over the music. He startles and turns his head, only to find somebody _very_ close to him, smiling big and bright at him, eyes all scrunched up. Cute, Doyoung can’t help but think.

“First time?” the guy asks in Korean, which catches Doyoung’s attention. He’s now leaning against the bar, elbows on the countertop and facing the stage, in what looks, to Doyoung, like he’s very comfortable with where he is, and what he’s doing. Oh, to be that confident when talking to a stranger, Doyoung thinks. 

“Am I that obvious?” Doyoung asks, smiling a bit bashfully. Might as well flirt if a hot guy is starting up a conversation with him, right? What has he got to lose, even if he’s not being flirted with back? Honestly, he’s not too sure. He’s had a lot of wine. 

“Kinda,” comes as a quick reply, but gentle, not mocking. Doyoung’s drinks arrive, and the guy pats his shoulder lightly. “Just relax and enjoy, you know? It’s all pretend.” 

Doyoung snorts, but nods. Relaxing isn’t exactly his forte, but that comes with the territory of being Doyoung. Taeyong always says he’s socially constipated, which is rude but also not really a lie, either. Doyoung is just - generally awkward, and self-controlled to the point of being uptight. He knows this about himself, which he’s why he’s surprised, once more, to have someone as hot and exuding confidence the way this guy is talking to him at all. “Thanks -” he looks at the guy. He doesn’t know his name. The guy smiles even brighter. 

“Jeno.” 

“I’m Doyoung. Thanks, Jeno-ssi,” Doyoung ends up saying, overly polite for the fact that they’re chatting in a strip club. It makes Jeno’s eyes sparkle under the low lights, and Doyoung feels his mouth dry up a little at their closeness, when hollers from the table his friends have chosen bring him back to the moment. “I gotta - go.” 

“Of course. See you around, Doyoung-ssi.” 

Doyoung leaves the bar and joins the table in a daze. 

;; 

The ambient noise at the table where Johnny, Taeyong, Mark, Taeil, Yuta and Doyoung sit is mildly worrying, to the point where Doyoung thinks they’re going to get kicked out of the strip club before they even get to see a single performance, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing? But Johnny keeps on hollering the lyrics to _Ol’ Town Road_ , and Taeil is spurring him on, and Mark is providing the beat by badly beatboxing.Doyoung needs an act to start so he stops wanting to strangle his best friends in the world. 

“So who was that?” Taeyong asks Doyoung while the others are occupied with a fierce thumb war between Taeil and Yuta. Taeyong, the gossip, is looking at Doyoung over his neon pink cocktail, twirling his straw in the glass, a little smirk on his lips as he waits for an answer.

“Who?” 

Taeyong scoffs and takes another sip. “Huh-uh. The guy, at the bar, that was undressing you with his eyes?” 

Doyoung snorts into his drink, then takes a big sip of it to hide how his cheeks are flaming. Taeyong might be terrible when it comes to talking about his own feelings, but apparently he has no problem discussing his _ex_ flirting with other men. Good to know. This is yet another reason why Doyoung tends _not_ to try and flirt when anyone he knows is around. 

“One, he wasn’t doing that, and two, I don’t know. Just a guy.” 

“You didn’t get a name?” 

This is the problem with musicians. You wouldn’t think it, but they are huge gossips, no matter which branch they settled in. Back at school, it was already a huge thing - the hallways always full of whispers of who hooked up with who at which party, and Doyoung always thought it was because they were all constantly strung-out, demanding themselves to be perfect, the school demanding them to be perfect, and gossiping was their way to let off steam. But even now, working with an orchestra, Doyoung feels like he’s constantly embroiled into the most inane gossip, which is bad enough. And now he’s got to add Taeyong on top of it, when his friend is usually much more discreet than this. Maybe the cocktails are to be blamed. 

“Maybe I did, but a name doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Actually -” but Doyoung is saved from Taeyong’s tirade about how _a name can mean a lot, Kim Doyoung_ , by the lights dimming, _finally_. Johnny whoops as a spotlight shines on the stage, illuminating the pole there, front and center. Doyoung feels anticipation build up in his stomach as the curtains at the back of the stage rustle a bit. 

“Everyone, welcome to _Reloaded_ , your newest, hippest, most provocative strip show,” a disembodied voice announces, which makes his table clap enthusiastically - the club isn’t empty by any means, and even more people have come in since they arrived, but they’re still, by far, the loudest around. 

“Our first act is one of our newest recruits, but all of you regulars already love him,” the voice continues, and the rest of the club cheers. “He’s been praised for his creative routines and, of course, his sinful hips!” 

Doyoung winces. That was pretty terrible. 

“Anyway, my beautiful voice is not what you are all here for, so without further ado, please give Jeno a warm welcome to the stage!” 

Taeyong hollers, Doyoung presumes at the mention of a Korean name, but Doyoung’s brain grinds to a halt as he feels himself start to sweat. Wait. _Wait_. Did the announcer say -

Doyoung doesn’t have time to close his mouth before the music starts, and the curtains open to reveal. Jeno. From the bar, earlier. He’s not wearing a crinkly-eyed smile anymore, instead, he’s simply taking in the crowd that’s cheering him on, eyes smoldering in a way that makes Doyoung lock his knees together under the table. He’s only wearing tight jeans and an oversized hoodie, but _whatever_ , he _is_ so sexy that Doyoung finishes his drink in one go. 

And it’s only going to get worse, Doyoung knows, because as of right now, Jeno still has all of his clothes _on_ . 

Doyoung doesn’t know the song, but he also doesn’t really care. His entire world reduces to the stage, watching as Jeno starts moving, looking so utterly _precise_ , every movement of his body with a purpose as he hits each beat, and that purpose is to set Doyoung on fire. 

Under the red stage lights, Jeno is beautiful, entrancing, mesmerizing, all sorts of adjectives that go through Doyoung’s head as he watches. He leans forward, licking his lips as Jeno keeps dancing, the song hitting its first bridge. He hasn’t approached the pole yet, but now he’s removed his hoodie, leaving him in one of those tank tops with huge arm holes that leave nothing to the imagination. His skin looks golden under the lights, and his muscles are highlighted by the makeup he’s got on, be it glitter, or body oil. Whatever it is, it _works_. 

Doyoung doesn’t shake out of his trance until Jeno drops to the floor, whipping his shirt off and flicking it to the audience while on his knees, before sliding to the pole easily, suddenly so, so much closer. Because the table Johnny picked is ridiculously close to the stage - a birthday perk maybe, or just beginner’s luck? Uncertain, but the result is the same, because now all that Doyoung can see is rippling abs and those muscles over Jeno’s ribs and how hard his nipples are, and the way his skin is most definitely shimmery with glitter. And, look. Doyoung likes to think of himself as someone full of self-control, but he doesn’t remember a time where he’s wanted to reach out and touch another man more than in that moment, and that includes every night he’s spent sharing a bed with Taeyong. 

Sorry, Taeyong. 

“Shut _up_ , oh my god, I go to school with that dude!”

Doyoung’s head snaps to the side, taking in Mark who is looking at Jeno with his eyes huge behind his round glasses. He must not have realized until Jeno was closer, but also that makes Doyoung’s head swim. That means Jeno is a college student. Currently stripping for all the $5 bills that Johnny is throwing onto the stage - half of them courtesy of a cackling Taeil, because he’s an enabler. Doyoung looks back at Jeno, only to find that in the meantime, he’s stripped off his jeans, and is now bending back with his tiny white spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination pressed against the stripping pole. 

Doyoung feels his own cock twitch, and flushes with deep embarrassment at it. 

Yuta is whistling, fingers in his mouth, and Doyoung spends a second feeling horrified at that considering where his hands have been, before he loses himself right back into Jeno’s performance, because... 

_Because_ , Jeno is looking at Doyoung, and so Doyoung looks back, his flush renewed; he feels like he can’t breathe. Jeno is grinding against the pole, using it to twirl, showing every angle of himself to the whole room with a smile on his face, but his eyes seem to keep finding Doyoung’s, leaving him completely frozen in place. 

By the time the song ends, Doyoung barely remembers his own name. Jeno bows to thunderous applause, and before he walks off stage, he directs one last smile towards Doyoung, making him feel like his legs are jelly.

He doesn’t really see any other act for the rest of the night. 

;; 

When Doyoung is agitated, he paces. So right now, he paces in front of the studio Mark told him he’s working at. He's running late of course, leaving Doyoung to wait which, in turn, agitates him - hence the pacing. It’s not that he’s always perfectly on time himself, but he’s got plans for this evening and he’d like to get to them as soon as possible. 

So what if his plans are to go back to his own rehearsal space and play until his fingers cramp up, and he finds out it’s past midnight and he hasn’t had dinner? It’s not like anyone has to know? What goes on between Doyoung and his piano stays between Doyoung and his piano, and anyone who ever thinks that being a prodigy at anything means you don’t have to rehearse can kiss his sleep-deprived ass. 

So, he’s pacing, fingers moving in front of him as he replays Chopin’s Etudes in G flat in his head, imagines his fingers flying over the keys at a speed he’s not yet quite managed - exactly what he needs to rehearse. He’s so focused, the notes like so many rapid fire sparks in his head, he doesn’t realize there’s someone on the path of his pacing, and he suddenly collides to a smaller, but stockier body, and reels back, blinking back into the moment. 

“Oh! I’m -” he blinks once more, only to see Jeno in front of him. Jeno. Who’s wearing clothes, and a smile that says he’s put himself in Doyoung’s path on purpose. There’s a towel slung over his shoulders, and he’s holding on to the ends of it. Doyoung swallows hard. “Sorry,” he finally says. Jeno smiles brighter. 

“Hi, Doyoung-ssi,” he says softly, and Doyoung’s mind flashes back to the previous Friday, and seeing Jeno’s perfect abs and his perfect hips rolling with the beat of the music. He clears his throat. 

“Hi, Jeno-ssi.” 

Jeno waves a hand. “Please, can we - can we drop the formal speech? Would that be okay?” 

Doyoung, still unsure he’s not dreaming, nods. What is Jeno even doing here? 

Wait. Mark did mention that they go to the same school, didn’t he. Points for Doyoung’s brain for remembering. 

“Yeah. You can call me hyung,” he says, feeling like his brain is playing catch-up with the moment. Jeno smiles at him.

“What are you doing here, Doyoung-hyung?” The change makes a tiny shiver ripple down Doyoung’s spine. Who knew? “Were you… were you looking for me?”

Doyoung opens his mouth, closes it. He wishes he could say yes, but he’s not that good at lying when he’s not flustered, and even worse when he is, and right now, he is most definitely flustered. 

“I, um. One of my friends studies here, and he forgot his iPad at my apartment, so I promised I’d bring it to him. He’s running late.” 

Jeno chuckles, ducking his head a little, like he’s embarrassed. “Oh, I did wonder how you could have known I was here.” 

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung replies stupidly, but Jeno only shakes his head, smiling again. 

“Please, don’t,” Jeno says, and then swiftly changes the topic, looking down at Doyoung’s hands, and mimicking what Doyoung was doing a moment ago, playing music in his own head. “What were you doing?” 

“Oh. I was rehearsing.” Doyoung stops, then thinks maybe that’s not enough information, all things considered. “I play the piano.” 

“You know this is an arts school, right? There’s a piano right here,” Jeno replies, pointing to an empty studio, and Doyoung shakes his head. 

“Ah, that’s okay,” Doyoung shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I’m not a student, and I’m very… particular about my piano.” 

Jeno hums, eyes moving down Doyoung’s body, and then back up. It makes Doyoung feel like he’s being scrutinized, but in a sexy way, which is entirely inappropriate given the setting and also making his insides squirm with interest. Jeno ends his panning look by biting his lip, and honestly, Doyoung is going to pass out. 

“Is there anything else you’re _particular_ about?” 

“Hyung!” Mark’s voice rings in the corridor, and Doyoung’s eyes widen, just as Jeno lets out a laugh - but it doesn’t feel at his expense. Doyoung turns around to see Mark jogging up to them, face breaking into a grin. “Oh hey Jeno!”

“Hey Mark,” Jeno gives him a little salute, and to his credit, Mark seems to not get weird about the fact that 1) Jeno and Doyoung were chatting, and 2) Jeno is a stripper. Maybe he was drunk enough to forget, but Doyoung knows better than that. 

He does throw Doyoung a look, though, because he’s standing there silently and it’s starting to get creepy. He clears his throat, smiling. “Hey, I brought your iPad, as promised,” he says, pulling it out of his shoulder bag and handing it to Mark. 

“Thank you, hyung, you’re the best. Hey, I didn’t know you two knew each other!” 

“Oh, we met -”

“Last Friday,” Jeno finishes for Doyoung, like he knew that Doyoung was going to vague it out, and Doyoung observes Mark’s brain go through the paces until he opens his mouth in a tiny look of surprise, before he grins. 

“That’s cool! Hyung, have you invited Jeno to the party then? It’ll be cool to have people my age around.”

“Hey, you chose us,” Doyoung reminds Mark. During Mark’s first year at Juilliard, Taeyong, as an alumni, had been asked to mentor one of his classes, and struck a friendship with Mark that just never ended. Doyoung turns back to Jeno, an apologetic look on his face. “Anyway, I didn’t get to, but if you’d like…”

He had not planned on inviting Jeno, but more because it didn’t even cross his mind. Surely Jeno wouldn’t care about going to a house party with a bunch of older guys, on a Saturday night? He must have better things to do. Or - or maybe he’s working. 

“But I imagine you’ll have better plans,” he says because he doesn’t dare bring Jeno’s work up. He doesn’t know if it’s a secret or not. 

Jeno’s face breaks into a big grin, one that makes little whiskers appear around his eyes and oh, God, how is it fair that someone can be that hot and that cute at the same time? Doyoung must have let his imagination run wild when he thought Jeno was flirting with him, there’s no way. Jeno’s the kind of guy who could have anyone, of any gender. He even has a pretty tiny mole under his right eye, like. Who gets to look like that? 

“Actually, that sounds like fun! I’d love to come, if you’ll have me,” he says, and Mark clasps Doyoung’s shoulder with a smile that looks worrying to Doyoung. 

“Nice! Hyung, why don’t you give Jeno your number? You can get the address that way, you know.” 

Doyoung is about to protest that Mark and Jeno go to school together and that seems completely unnecessary, but Jeno holds his phone out immediately, unlocked and open to the Add Contact page, and Doyoung is just. Helpless. He puts in his number, and moments later, his own phone vibrates with a text, presumably from Jeno. 

“Okay, well, that’s settled! Man, like, I’m, like, _super pumped_ for this party! It’s gon’ be _dope_!” Mark exclaims, breaking the moment. Jeno gestures to the corridor behind him. 

“I got another class, so - I’ll see you Saturday?” 

Doyoung nods. “Yeah. Bye, Jeno-yah,” he says a little reluctantly, and Mark gives him a slightly curious and yet confused look, but Jeno’s whole face softens. 

“Bye, Doyoung-hyung.” 

;;

“Yo,” Johnny calls from the couch when Doyoung makes it home an uncertain number of hours later. He waves at Johnny as he makes his way to the kitchen without delay, pulling the freezer open and extracting the ever present ice bag from under a stack of frozen waffles, shutting the freezer with his shoulder as he continues his path to Johnny, folding onto the couch next to him. 

The apartment they share is pretty fancy, courtesy of them both being successful musicians. Doyoung doesn’t exactly make millions, but - enough to live well. They have an open plan living area and nice big windows - and only some of them face a brick wall. It’s not huge, but it’s comfortable.

“Hi,” Doyoung says, not reacting when Johnny sits up and takes the ice bag from him with one hand, the other cradling Doyoung’s wrist. This has become routine, too - Doyoung coming home with fingers so cramped up he can barely move them, and Johnny icing them for him while they go through their day, or sometimes just sit in silence. Tonight, after Doyoung hisses at the cold, he wouldn’t mind the silence, but Johnny has other ideas. 

“Mark texted me,” he starts, and Doyoung sighs, slumping against the couch. Figures. 

“You say that like he doesn’t text you constantly.”

“He mentioned something interesting this time, though,” Johnny says, and Doyoung tries to pull his hand away, only for Johnny to hold his wrist a little tighter. “20 minutes for each hand, you know it. Your fault for torturing yourself,” he adds sternly, a serious undercurrent to his words. Doyoung swallows, but stops resisting. “You gonna tell me about it?” 

“Do I have to?” Doyoung whines, and the question only earns him a look, so he sighs again. “Fine. It’s nothing, though. Or at least, I think it’s nothing? Just. Okay. You know your birthday? I mean, of course you remember your birthday.” Does he? Doyoung wonders. Johnny was pretty wasted. “Anyway, when I was waiting for our drinks I started chatting with this cute guy. Who turns out to also be a college student that Mark knows.” 

Johnny hums, moving the ice pack back and forth gently of Doyoung’s knuckles. For such a big guy, he is so tender, sometimes, Doyoung thinks fondly. “You’re omitting a detail,” he says, and Doyoung actually smiles. 

“Does the detail matter, though?” 

“Guess not. But it also allows me to say that I saw your crush in a golden g-string?” 

Doyoung groans, covering his eyes with his free forearm, while Johnny chuckles. “Why would you _want_ to say that?” Doyoung asks, trying his best not to let the images flood his brain while he stands so close to his best friend. 

“Because it’s funny,” Johnny shrugs. “Also, you didn’t deny the crush part.” 

“Is there a reason for me to deny it?” 

Another shrug. “You denied it for months with Ty.” 

“Because we were friends first. It was weird.” 

“Ah, but this one you saw practically naked first,” Johnny asserts, moving the bag a little to massage some feeling into Doyoung’s fingers. “Makes it simpler?” 

“Something like that. Although there’s the fact that he’s - young. And most definitely not interested in me like that.” 

“Mark said he was eating you up, actually. Said he’s coming to the party.”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t know. It feels like he’s flirting but it also makes no sense. Why would he flirt with me?” 

Johnny levels Doyoung with another look. “I’m not going to say this again -”

Doyoung shakes his head, because he doesn’t need another lecture about how he needs to love himself and stop putting himself down, etc etc. It’s not that he thinks he’s unattractive - he knows he’s good-looking. But - “No, it’s not that. It’s just. He’s sexy, it’s his whole job to be sexy. I don’t feel sexy. So he feels out of my league.”

“Doyoungie -”

“Also, did I mention that he’s young? He’s 21 at best, hyung.” 

“Who cares? Consider this, Doyoungie: having a 21-year-old on your arm at orchestra functions would be _very_ sexy of you.” 

Doyoung chokes on a breath, flexing his wrist in Johnny’s hold. Johnny laughs as he presses his thumb against the tendons of Doyoung’s wrist, making him hiss softly. 

“I’m just saying, don’t consider it a lost cause too early, okay?”

Doyoung breathes through his nose, and then nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, hyung.”

“You’re welcome, Doyoungie. Now, pass me your other hand.”

;;

Doyoung is glad that his home piano - an electronic upright, as he sadly does not have the space for a grand - is in his bedroom, which is off limits during their parties, when he sees Hyuck spilling a glass of what he suspects is rum & coke all over the floor. He takes a breath, rushing over to contain the spill and wipe off the floor with paper towels before there’s too much of a mess. Donghyuck is a little demon sometimes but right now he helps at least, apologizing - albeit to Johnny more than to Doyoung, even though Doyoung’s the one on his knees.

The doorbell goes, and Johnny walks over, opening it in a loud cheer that manages to cut through the music - good thing that they warned their neighbors about this (even inviting a few of them). When Doyoung looks up from the floor to see who’s just arrived to the already booming party, he finds himself staring directly up into Jeno’s eyes. 

Well. Awkward. This is also giving too good a frame of reference for Doyoung when Jeno walks closer, and he has to quickly scramble to his feet, hoping he’s done a good enough job. 

“Hi,” he greets breathlessly, knowing his hands are full of soggy paper towels. Jeno gives him one of his smiles, and Doyoung inhales sharply. 

“Hi. You need help?” 

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” Doyoung shakes his head, moving around to get to the kitchen and the garbage bin. “Did you find the place okay?” 

“Yeah, was easy enough. You have a lot of friends,” Jeno remarks, looking around at the full apartment. “Your place is cool.” 

“Thanks. To be honest, most of them are Johnny’s friends. He’s my roommate.” 

“Cool,” Jeno says, and Doyoung feels the awkward silence approach, so he panics, interrupting Jeno before he can speak again. 

“What would you like to drink? Wait, you’re legal, aren’t you?” 

Jeno laughs, reaching for a pretzel from the bowl on the kitchen island, nodding as he pops it into his mouth. Doyoung tries not to stare. “Yeah, I am. I’ll be 22 soon, actually. And I’ll have a beer, thank you, hyung.” 

Doyoung tries his best not to flush, but he can admit he’s glad for the shock of cold when he plunges his hand down the beer bucket to grab one for Jeno.

“Oh? When’s your birthday?” 

“April 9th,” Jeno replies, his fingers brushing Doyoung’s when he takes the beer. Every single second feels charged, current passing between them, and okay, okay. Maybe Jeno is flirting, maybe he is interested in Doyoung. It still feels impossible and difficult to admit, but, maybe. “When’s yours?” 

“Just missed it. February 1st.” 

“Damn, shame. I’d have given you a special show,” he replies nonchalantly, and Doyoung chokes on his tongue. 

“A - what?”

The smirk on Jeno’s face tells Doyoung he totally said that on purpose. “You know, sometimes, we can give private shows. I don’t do it too often. Gotta be convinced.” 

Doyoung can’t swallow his tongue, so instead he downs the rest of his drink, the vodka burning the back of his throat. “That sounds - nice,” he says, because what is he supposed to say? _Please I beg of you show me exactly what you mean?_ Jeno’s not at work! That’s unfair! 

“Do you want to dance?”

Putting his cup down on the kitchen island, Doyoung hesitates. “I do, but I’m not - not very good,” he says honestly, to which Jeno responds with a beautiful, blinding grin. 

“That’s okay. I am, I can teach you.” 

This is how they end up in the middle of the makeshift dance floor in the living-room, where a bunch of people Doyoung is not overly familiar with are moving, pressed against one another. Doyoung feels awkward - what else is new - but Jeno is quick to pull him close, hands on his hips and eyes gentle. He really looks kind, Doyoung thinks. 

“Just let go,” Jeno says like it’s an instruction that Doyoung can follow. He laughs when Doyoung just levels a look at him. “Okay, okay, I get the hint. How about you follow my lead?” 

“I can do that,” Doyoung replies, even if he feels like by doing so, he’s inviting a world of trouble to himself. Which is a sentiment that definitely feels right on the money when Jeno moves to fit himself against Doyoung’s back. He’s shorter, but wider, and when Jeno drapes an arm around his waist, Doyoung feels suffused with warmth, surprising himself by relaxing. 

“Yeah,” Jeno says, close to his ear. His breath is hot. “Just like that.” 

He starts moving his hips, in rhythm with the music (Doyoung thinks it’s a Rihanna song, but honestly, he’s better at classical music than pop, so he could be wrong), and Doyoung is helpless to do anything but follow, Jeno’s arm around him guiding him. It feels languid, even if Doyoung still thinks he must look awkward, with his arms by his side and his feet shuffling. He can dance a waltz, but this is entirely different; this is _sexy_ , and he can feel Jeno pressed all against his back, his ass, scorching hot. How do they look, to everyone around them? 

For once, Doyoung thinks it doesn’t matter. He closes his eyes, and lets both the music and Jeno take him under their waves, feeling a little weightless as he moves, perhaps more stiffly than he should, but he’s still new to this. Doyoung swallows hard when he feels Jeno’s nose press against the top notch of his spine, his fingers clenching against Doyoung’s stomach. The song shifts, from one to the next, seamless, the same brand of bass-heavy R’n’B.

“Fuck,” Jeno murmurs against Doyoung’s skin, but it’s more than loud enough for Doyoung to hear, and God, does he feel that. It makes him shiver, instinctively press back heavier against Jeno, and -

 _Oh_. 

Doyoung’s eyes fly open as he distinctly feels that Jeno is aroused, and the sudden discovery makes Doyoung feel - something, he’s not quite sure what, but it’s heady, and when usually he’d pull back, apologize, douse ice cold water over everything, right now he doesn’t. He just keeps dancing, and Jeno keeps on leading him, and it’s so unbearably hot Doyoung never wants it to stop. 

And it doesn’t. They dance for a while, one song blending into three, four, and Doyoung savors every second; but of course it’s not meant to last forever. 

“Doyoungie!” Taeyong’s voice cuts through the noise, and Doyoung tenses all over again. Jeno stills behind him, but he doesn’t pull back, and somehow, Doyoung is thankful for it. 

“Hey, Taeyong-hyung,” Doyoung replies when Taeyong reaches them. “Did you only make it here?” 

“Yeah, was stuck in the studio. Hi,” he says, looking over Doyoung’s shoulder with a smile that’s too wide to be sincere. Doyoung knows him too well. “I’m Taeyong. You’re - Jeno, right? The stripper?” 

Doyoung startles. He’s not told Taeyong what Jeno’s name is, so how does he know? Did Johnny just talk about Doyoung behind his back? The mere thought makes tension rise in his body, and he glares at Taeyong.

“Hyung!” he snaps, sounding as angry as he feels.

Doyoung feels Jeno’s hand on his arm, soothing. “It’s okay, hyung,” he says, before stepping to stand by his side, nodding as he holds his hand out for Taeyong. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Taeyong-ssi.” 

At least, Taeyong is not enough of an ass to not shake his hand and soften up a little, until his smile feels almost real. Doyoung isn’t sure what’s with him, but he doesn’t like it. 

“You too, “ he replies, before clapping his hands. “Johnny is preparing shots. You joining?” 

Doyoung feels anger simmering as he asks, and he can tell that Taeyong knows as much, but he doesn’t care to try and smooth things over just yet, not when he’d much rather focus on Jeno. The thing is, Doyoung is used to his friends teasing him; he’s an easy target for them, with all his carefully-maintained control. He usually doesn’t care, he gets over it easily, because he knows it’s loving. But Taeyong snarking at Jeno when they don’t know each other doesn’t feel okay to Doyoung, and he’s making it very, very obvious.

“Maybe later,” Doyoung replies before Jeno can, as he looks at Jeno. “You feel like some fresh air? It’s stuffy here.” 

Jeno turns wide, surprised eyes on him, before nodding eagerly. “Yeah.” 

Doyoung leads him away, down the one hallway in the whole apartment, and his room at the end of it. He takes them both inside, closing the door behind him, and Jeno raises an eyebrow. “You said -”

“I have a balcony, if you want to go outside for real. But I just wanted to - get away for a second. I’m sorry, about Taeyong-hyung.” 

“It’s okay,” Jeno says, moving around the room as he takes it in. “He’s not wrong, I am a stripper.” 

“It’s just your job,” Doyoung replies, as Jeno brushes his fingers against the closed cover of the piano. 

“Would it matter if it was more than that?” 

“No,” Doyoung replies without hesitance. It doesn’t really matter to him what Jeno does for a living. If anything, he finds himself in awe of it, the way Jeno is so obviously confident and sure of himself. “But Taeyong was being rude, trying to get a rise out of you.”

“Do you know why?” 

Doyoung sighs softly. “I can make an educated guess, but I’d rather not.” He looks at the piano that Jeno is lingering next to, and jumps at the chance to change the topic. “Do you play?” 

“Me? Oh, no. I play the guitar, but that’s it.” 

Doyoung walks closer, pulling the bench and sitting down, leaving enough space for Jeno to join him if he so wishes. The music from just outside the door is still loud, but not enough that Doyoung couldn’t hear his piano better, and so he lifts the cover, putting his fingers to the keys just as Jeno sits down next to him, all close and warm. 

God, he’s so warm all the time. 

Doyoung plays - nothing fancy, just whatever comes to mind, slow and melodious, and he can feel Jeno’s eyes on his hands, his head tilted to the music, a little smile on his face. Doyoung is smiling too, even as he stops playing after a minute. He’s not here to show off, and he’d rather just talk to Jeno. 

“Do you teach, by any chance?” 

Doyoung laughs, shaking his head. “I’d make a terrible teacher, I’m sorry. I don’t have your patience. Is teaching something you want to do?” 

Jeno hums. “Maybe? I don’t really know yet. I just know I love to dance. I love to perform. I think that’s why I make a good stripper, you know? When I’m on stage, I really feel like nothing can stop me. I know I’m not going to do this forever, of course, but I keep on taking it as more training I get to do.” 

“Do you care if people know about the stripping?” 

Jeno shrugs, but looks down at his hands for a second. “I care when people judge without thought. But I don’t care when they’re like you. You don’t seem to care, you don’t seem to think it’s shameful or dirty.”

“I don’t,” Doyoung replies easily, and he sounds serious and honest, because he is. “A job is a job. There’s demand, and you supply. More demand than there is for a concert pianist, let me tell you.” He chuckles. “You’re doing something you’re good at, and that you enjoy. You’re selling a fantasy, right? It’s no different from any other entertainer, and I’m sorry that you ever have to face disdain because of it. It’s honest work.” 

He might care more, if Jeno was going further than just stripping. But that’s just because Doyoung is greedy and jealous and he would hate sharing - which is an incredibly unfair thought, considering Jeno does not and will never belong to him. 

“You,” Jeno murmurs, and he sounds so close now, when Doyoung turns to look, his vision is filled with Jeno’s eyes, his tiny mole, his lips. He feels dizzy. “You keep on surprising me, hyung.” 

Doyoung feels like Jeno is about to kiss him. He almost leans in, almost lets his eyes flutter closed, almost expects the hot soft press of lips, but. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, Jeno swipes a finger over Doyoung’s cheek, before pulling back a little, grinning. “You had fluff on your cheek,” he says, and Doyoung’s hopes and dreams get dashed against the cliff of his stupidity.

Of course Jeno wasn’t about to kiss him. He’s just a friendly guy, the kind of guy that doesn’t look twice at Doyoung outside of friendships, because Doyoung is too anxious and needing everything to always be perfect, out of habit, and that never works for people that are more laid-back. He drives them away through the sheer height of the wall he’s built up around himself, because he’s scared of anyone finding out about how boring and empty he is inside.

And then the moment is gone, because Jeno’s phone starts ringing, and he gives Doyoung an apologetic look, picking up. Doyoung wouldn’t eavesdrop, but he doesn’t have much of a choice here, and he feels disappointment settle in his gut when he hears Jeno talk about being right there before he hangs up. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, biting down on his lip. “One of my co-workers is sick, and the club is asking if I can cover. I wouldn’t, but it’s good money -”

“I understand,” Doyoung interrupts kindly, waving a hand. He pulls the cover back on the piano keys, standing up. It feels like a spell has been broken. “You should go.” 

Jeno follows suit. “I - can I see you again?” he asks, and in that moment, he looks painfully his age. Doyoung swallows hard, but nods. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

The smile Jeno gives him is blinding. “Okay, good. I’ll text you, hyung.” 

;;

Later, when Doyoung has composed himself and rejoined the party, he sits next to Taeyong on the couch that’s been pushed against the far wall, in front of the television to protect it, and he gives him a hard look. 

“Wanna tell me what you were all about, earlier?” 

Taeyong’s been drinking, but he’s not as drunk as Doyoung can imagine he’d like to be, just so he could avoid having this conversation. Taeyong sighs, then looks at everything but Doyoung. 

“I’m sorry, Doyoungie,” he ends up saying. “I was out of line.”

“Yeah, you were. Why?”

Taeyong shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t think.” 

Doyoung feels something painful and hot inside, like a hot iron pressing against his heart. It _hurts_ , because this is exactly why, in between other reasons, he and Taeyong didn’t work out. Doyoung was constantly pushing and needing more openness that Taeyong always struggled to give him, no matter how hard he tried. Doyoung doesn’t blame him, but he’s tired. 

“You know I love you, right?” Doyoung asks, because he does, and he always will. Taeyong sighs, then smiles, running a hand through his hair. 

“I know. I love you too.” 

“Okay. That’s not going to change.” 

Taeyong nods, and then smiles a little more, this time true, real, earnest. “But you like him, don’t you?” he asks, and he sounds actually interested in knowing about it all. Always easier for Taeyong to talk about other people’s feelings than his own. Doyoung huffs out a laugh. 

“I do. I really do.” 

Taeyong giggles, then punches Doyoung’s shoulder lightly. “Then I hope it works out, and I promise I won’t be a dick to him again.”

Doyoung laughs, feeling the earlier weight lift off of his chest. “Thank you.”

;;

Doyoung meets Jeno for lunch a week or so later. He had to wait a couple of days before getting a message from Jeno inviting him out to a cafe near campus, and at that point had convinced himself he wouldn’t get one at all. 

Doyoung has never been this dressed down for any of their meetings before, but today he’s wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans and his glasses. Self-conscious or not, he didn’t want to say no to the invitation to meet Jeno. Thankfully, when he gets to the cafe, he spots Jeno through the window and sees that he’s also in a hoodie, so Doyoung’s anxiety decreases a little. Doyoung’s worries can show in all sorts of ways, but one of them is decidedly how he dresses and how he presents himself. Being dressed down makes him feel like he’s in control, and like he can project confidence through impeccable suits and a mostly black-on-black wardrobe. So the softer, more comfortable casual clothes feel important to _him_ , even if Jeno might not realize.

When he walks in, Jeno stands up so fast his chair almost falls, and it makes Doyoung smile - there’s something so endearing about Jeno that makes Doyoung want to just. Hold him, or something sappy like that, which doesn’t exactly feel foreign to Doyoung, considering how touchy-feely he can get with his friends, but it still feels distinctly _different_.

“Hi, hyung,” Jeno says more sedately than Doyoung expects when he makes it to the table, and Doyoung grins. 

“Hi, Jeno-yah.” 

They sit, and talk for a couple of minutes about what to order before doing so, and then, a comfortable silence falls between them. It only lasts a minute before Jeno breaks it, keeping Doyoung from spending much more time just enjoying the way the sunlight is making Jeno’s skin glow. 

“You look very casual today, hyung. I like it.”

Doyoung looks down at himself, and then has to push his glasses up his nose. “Ah, that, uh. Yeah, I didn’t have an orchestra rehearsal today.” 

“So what did you do with your morning?” 

Doyoung chuckles. “I rehearsed at home instead.” 

Jeno laughs, nodding. “I feel that.” 

They’re both artists - Doyoung can’t imagine Jeno wouldn’t understand. Still it helps him relax further, get into the groove of their late lunch, and they keep maintaining easy chatter until their food arrives, and Jeno goes a little quiet. 

“Everything okay?” Doyoung asks. “Do you not like the food? We can ask -”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no, the food is great. I just. Look, hyung, I asked you to come for lunch because I had something to ask you. I was just stalling a bit, I’m sorry. I’m a little nervous.” 

Doyoung’s heart rate picks up. What can it be about, that would have Jeno fretting? Doyoung puts his fork down, giving Jeno his full attention. 

“Whatever it is, please tell me, Jeno-yah,” he says gently, the edge of his worry evident in his voice. Jeno nods, looking down at his food for a moment before he looks back up, seeming to square himself up as he looks straight at Doyoung. 

“So, I’d like to date you. I know that’s not exactly a surprise and I haven’t been very subtle about it, but I, like, _really_ want to get to know you better, Doyoung-hyung. And I just wanted to say if you’re not interested in return, that’s okay, it’s all good, but I guess I’d just like to know. I think you’re interested too, I mean, it feels like you are, but if you’re not, I can stop pushing.” 

It’s a good thing Doyoung’s put his fork down, because he would have dropped it otherwise. For some reason, he did _not_ expect that, at all, even if it makes sense, considering their interactions. Jeno was flirting, and Doyoung was so caught up in his own head that he convinced himself it was just friendliness. 

God, he’s such an idiot. 

“No,” he says as a start, and Jeno’s face falls. “No, no, I mean. I don’t want you to stop,” Doyoung hastily adds, holding a hand up and out. “I. You’re right, I’m interested. I’m very interested. I’m sorry if I haven’t made it - obvious. Or didn’t quite respond right. I’ve been trying, but you’ve probably noticed I’m not very good at. Flirting.” 

Jeno, after a second of stunned silence, laughs. It’s quiet and delighted and it makes Doyoung’s heart soar. He wants to hear that sound often, and for prolonged lengths of time. 

“Okay,” Jeno ends up saying, sounding relieved. “Well, that’s good to know.”

“I’ll make an effort to flirt back more effectively, now that I know for sure that you’re interested,” Doyoung says, which seems to surprise Jeno. 

“Wait, what do you mean, now that you’re sure? You weren’t sure before? Hyung, I offered you a lap dance!” He hisses the words out in a whisper, looking around them. Doyoung flushes. 

“Well, I mean, that’s your job -” 

“I promise, I don’t usually go around offering those to anyone. Never actually offered one ever before,” Jeno says, and Doyoung had no idea about that, but also Jeno looks a little sad now, and Doyoung feels horrible. 

“I’m sorry, Jeno-yah. I realize how that sounds, and I’m sorry. I promise I meant absolutely no disrespect. I respect you a lot.” 

The thing about Jeno is that he keeps on disarming Doyoung entirely by being so open - with what he does, what he likes, what he wants. Doyoung is much more used to people being less transparent, but he finds himself wrong-footed constantly - in a good way. It shifts his axis every time, and Doyoung has never been huge on rollercoasters, but he likes this one. 

“I respect you too, hyung,” Jeno replies, and he gets his smile back, the one that makes him look boyish and somehow even more handsome, like that should even be allowed. “And I’m glad I said all that, then. I’m glad we cleared the air.”

Doyoung nods, and he smiles, too. He’s reminded of the first time he ever saw Jeno, and how much he wanted to reach out. He wants to, again. Clothes or no clothes, he gets that it’s just because it’s _Jeno_ , now. 

“So, you wanna go out with me?” Jeno asks, and despite what they just admitted to each other, the question still surprises Doyoung. He blinks, swallowing his bite before he can choke on it. “On a real date, I mean. Not just lunch.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Doyoung replies after sipping some water to make sure he could speak.  
“Aren’t your evenings busy?” 

Jeno shrugs. “I’m free on Wednesday.” 

Doyoung licks his lips, and smiles. He’s free, too, on Wednesday, as luck would have it. “Okay. Wednesday.”

;;

“Here you go,” Doyoung says as he holds out a glass of wine to Taeyong, before going back to sitting on the couch next to Johnny. Mark is lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling as he hums to himself a song only known to himself, and Doyoung nudges him with a socked foot. “You’re all coming next week, right?” he asks the room at large, but of course, it’s Taeil that nods first. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“And if I promise you all I’ll pay you back, can you make sure no one else wins my date?” 

Doyoung is despairing about this whole thing. Next week, a charity function is to take place for the orchestra, which survives on donors and seat holders’ good will, and this time, the orchestra director thought it fun to auction off some of the orchestra members to the highest bidders. Doyoung wants to scream every time he thinks about it. _She_ isn’t going to be put up for offer like she’s just a piece of meat, but _he_ is, and he is fuming about it. 

However, all of his friends told him he should do it, that it’d be good for his confidence and it could be fun, and Doyoung hates backing down from a challenge, even if it’s one he hates. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Johnny says, waving a dismissive hand. “Did you invite Jeno, by the way?” 

Doyoung throws him a horrified look. “Why would I do that? I don’t want him to stop liking me!” 

Mark snorts, still on the floor. Doyoung has no idea what he’s finding so fascinating about their crown moldings. “Ayo, hyung, you could, like, literally puke your guts out - like _bleeuuughh_ \- right down his front and he’d still find you endearing, hyung.” 

“And what about seeing you walk down a catwalk in a suit could make him like you less, anyway?” Taeyong continues, raising an eyebrow at Doyoung. And sure, he has a point. 

“I’m embarrassed about it. This shit is embarrassing!” 

Taeil shrugs, taking a sip of wine. “Maybe he’ll want to buy your date.” 

Doyoung has no idea if Jeno could afford it, if he would even want to, but Johnny slaps his own thigh then, pointing at Taeil. “Hyung, you’re a genius! Doyoungie, you invite him, and then we can all make sure _he_ gets your date! And it’s a win-win for everyone!”

Doyoung groans. He’s pretty sure he’s fucked, now, because Taeyong’s face lit up at the idea, and even Mark is sitting up. 

“Hey, that’s a good idea!” 

“You have nothing to lose, Doyoungie.”

With another groan, Doyoung scrunches his face up. “I’ll think about it, okay? Now why are we still talking about me?” 

“Well, you’re dating a stripper, that’s the most entertainment we’ve got from you in years - no offence, Ty,” Johnny points out, which is rude, thank you very much. 

“He’s a college student!”

“That is not the retort you think it is,” Taeil remarks with a smirk on his face, which leads Doyoung to attempt to smother himself with a throw cushion while Johnny pats his shoulder. 

The conversation, thankfully, shifts to Mark and Donghyuck’s latest installment in their will-they-won’t-they soap opera. Doyoung’s attention drifts, thoughts churning on how to bring this up to Jeno.

;;

For their first real date, they go eat at a little restaurant by the river and then walk around for what feels like hours, talking about nothing and everything under the sun. They talk about their families, their lives before landing in New York City, their friends, their colleagues, their taste in music, films, books. They talk about their hobbies, their dislikes, whatever. Doyoung hasn’t felt this relaxed on a first date in forever. He’s never been this relaxed on a date ever, maybe. 

“I have a scholarship, but I was still looking for jobs where I could dance and get some cash, just, you know. To have some disposable income and all that. And I wanted to see what the job market was like here. I saw this ad for an audition and it was vague as hell, but I thought I had nothing to lose,” Jeno says as they lean against the railing on the Brooklyn bridge. 

“Dangerous,” Doyoung says, and Jeno laughs.

“I know. If my mom knew, she’d kill me. But it was an audition for _Reloaded_. They laid everything out from the beginning, said it was a strip show and that if that wasn’t something we were comfortable with, we could leave right away. It was all very above-board, honestly. And I got there, and I thought… why not? Taking your clothes off while dancing is actually a full blown skill in itself. So is pole dancing. I could learn from this, _and_ make money.”

Doyoung nods, looking at Jeno’s face in the light of the city, fingers twitching to reach out. Jeno’s cheeks are rosy from the wind, his hair swept to the side, his smile big and bright and open. God, he’s beautiful. 

“I…” he starts, not really knowing where to even begin. He looks down at his hands, knuckles pink around the railing. “I feel like I’ve always been at a piano. My mother likes to tell the story of the first time I saw a piano. I was one, and my grandfather sat me on his lap on the piano bench, and I just started going at it on the keys. Mom says every time they tried to pry me away I’d start crying.”

Jeno chuckles. “Cute,” he says, a whisper that Doyoung almost misses, but doesn’t. It makes his cheek heat up. 

“I love playing. I love the piano, and I love music, it’s all the best parts of me. But sometimes it’s very… constricting. I feel like I’ve been in suits and performing my whole life, and I haven’t had much of a chance to ever do anything else. I don’t always know exactly who I am, or who I’d be, without the piano.” 

“Have you ever tried to find out?” 

Doyoung inhales sharply, feeling Jeno’s eyes on him. “For a while when I was 16, yeah. I rebelled against everything and tried to just give it all up. It was right after I visited the US for the first time, where I’d participated in a competition that was held in Carnegie Hall, of all places. I won it, I got home, my first boyfriend broke up with me, and I just tried to burn everything down.” 

Jeno leans in closer, his cheek against Doyoung’s shoulder. He’s still so warm, despite the wind, and Doyoung wants to burrow his way inside his chest, make a home there. “How come the fire didn’t take?” Jeno asks quietly, obviously interested. Doyoung chuckles, feeling a little pathetic. 

“I missed it. I felt empty and _bored_. Anything I tried to do to replace music felt dreadful. After six months, I was right back at it.” 

“And it felt right, didn’t it?” 

Doyoung smiles and nods, before burying his chin into his scarf. Jeno doesn’t move away. 

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s pretty amazing that you have something that’s so intrinsically a part of you. I don’t think you have to be someone without it. I mean, sure, if ever comes a time where you can’t play anymore, you’ll have to be, but it can still be a part of your life anyway. You can learn the patience to teach,” he says with a smile in his voice, making Doyoung snort, but he grows serious again right after. “I just think - you do know yourself. You have this one big, all-encompassing passion, instead of a bunch of small ones. I think that’s really cool. This is who you are, and you know who you are, actually. That’s sexy.”

Doyoung gulps, looking at Jeno, who looks absolutely serene, looking over at the dark river under them.

“You think I’m sexy?” 

Jeno chuckles, and shuffles just a bit, to be able to run a hand down Doyoung’s back, stopping low. “Yeah, hyung. I think you’re sexy.” 

The words, and Jeno’s tone, feel like an invitation, but, once again, Doyoung panics. They’re in public, the bridge sidewalk busy, and all the noises of the city suddenly come rushing back into his head, making him feel lightheaded for a second. Funny that out of all the things they’ve talked about this evening, this is what digs the deepest inside Doyoung and makes him bleed, just a tiny bit, like a line fracture in his heart. 

“I wish I could see what you see,” he says, voice a little rough. Jeno smiles. 

“If I can, I’ll help you see it.” 

;;

The evening of the charity event arrives way too fast. Doyoung finally got up the nerve to ask Jeno to come as he was walking him home after a second date, and he was so enthusiastic about it that Doyoung actually felt bad about not asking from the get-go. He didn’t bat an eye about the price of a chair at the table his friends got for themselves, and even expressed excitement about the auction part of the night. 

Maybe there’ll be someone else in the orchestra that catches his eye. Doyoung looks around backstage, giving his colleagues critical once-overs. Julian, from the wind section? He’s very handsome, in a very traditional, American way. Square jaw, blue eyes. Hm. Maybe not. 

Penelope, the violinist? She’s beautiful - Doyoung always felt so, even in a purely aesthetic appreciation. He tries to imagine Jeno with her on his arm, and feels like he’s going to throw up. 

Damn it, he can’t think like this right before the event is set to start, he’ll entirely psych himself out of it. He knows he can count on his friends - and his own wallet - to make sure he doesn’t end up having to spend an evening with some detestable rich white man from the Upper East Side, but he still feels nerves churning in his stomach. They’re completely different from the nerves he gets when he’s about to perform, because those are entirely focused on his perfectionism and his idea of failure. Right now, he feels nervous about the idea of being on stage for everyone to look at and judge, without the armor of music secure around him. He’s worried that people won’t bid. He’s scared that people _will _.__

__Doyoung chances a look at the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, and lets out a deep breath. He’s looking - different, to his own eyes. He’s wearing a red suit, for one, which is completely outside of his comfort zone, and the black and structured accents just make him stand out even more and don’t do anything to tone down the suit. And then there’s the belt that Taeyong practically ordered him to wear, that lets a weaving of o-rings and delicate chains cascade down his hip. It jingles whenever Doyoung moves, and he keeps on playing with it. And then, there’s his hair, which is pushed off of his forehead, making his face look even longer, his eyes sharper. Doyoung can barely recognize himself, but he feels like he looks… good. If he dares, he’d almost say he looks a little dangerous._ _

__It helps with the nerves a little, but not as much as he’d like. The show begins, but Doyoung’s turn is towards the end, before the first chair flutist and violinist, but after everyone else. So as is usual, he paces as he waits, cracks his knuckles, plays along to the music in his head, tries to keep himself out of a state of anxiety that’d freeze him in place._ _

__When he’s finally called to the stage, he still almost seizes up, but that is a familiar feeling that he can push through, stepping under the harsh lights and taking a deep breath as he starts walking, forcing a smile on his face. He hears his friends cheer, loud enough to drown the voice of the orchestra director introducing him and talking about his achievements ( _He played at Carnegie Hall at only 16! He can speak three languages! Fastest fingers in all of NYC!_ which remains to be seen). When he gets to the end of the catwalk, it’s bright enough that he can’t really see anything, apart from the blur of paddles going up as the bidding starts. _ _

__His cheeks feel on fire under the heat of the lights and the scrutiny. There seems to be a bidding war going on between two tables, and Doyoung hopes fervently that one of them is his friends’ table. Doyoung keeps his smile on, trying his best not to turn on his heel and run the hell out of here, until a gavel is banged, announcing a winner._ _

__“Sold for $2,000 to number 256!”_ _

__$2,000. Apart from Miles, the lumberjack percussionist that went second or third and pushed for a record $3,500, Doyoung’s been _sold_ at the highest price of the night so far, which makes him feel dizzy as he walks away from the stage. People are paying good money to go on a date with him. Kim Doyoung. _ _

__Sounds fake._ _

__It’s pretty empty by now backstage, as he was one of the last ones, and Doyoung lets his knees give as he holds onto the back of a chair, breathing deep and slow, chin to his chest. He doesn’t hear the side door open and close, and he doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching, until a pair of combat boots appear in his vision. Doyoung looks up slowly, finding himself with a grinning Jeno, and any words die in his throat. He’s wearing a suit that looks a little cheaply made, and he’s a vision._ _

__“So, where do you want to go for our date?” Jeno asks, sounding like he’s teasing, and Doyoung sags forward, burying his face in Jeno’s neck, an incredulous, relieved noise escaping him._ _

__“Oh, thank God it’s you,” he whispers, holding on to the lapels of Jeno’s jacket. Jeno snorts, reaching up to curl his hand around the back of Doyoung’s neck._ _

__“Did you really think I was going to let anyone get near you?”_ _

__Doyoung pulls back, looking at Jeno seriously, even though he feels like he’s a millisecond away from crying. “Jeno-yah, it’s so much money.”_ _

__“Johnny-hyung said you had a plan about that. And you know what? I don’t even care. I’d pay it. You’re worth a lot more than that,” he says, his eyes doing that slow drift down Doyoung’s body again, and Doyoung feels them on every inch of skin as they drag back up. “You look - incredible, hyung. Fuck. Beyond words.”_ _

__And because Doyoung is beyond words, too, and he’s tired of panicking instead of just _living_ , he does the only thing he can think of doing. He reaches up, framing Jeno’s face with his hands, and leans in to kiss him. He feels, more than hears, Jeno’s surprised intake of breath, but when their lips meet, the constant storm in Doyoung’s head, the one that blows back against every decision he tries to make, calms down. Jeno lets out a tiny sound, all warm and pleased, and suddenly the kiss shifts, Jeno pressing against Doyoung and kissing back more forcefully, one of his hands sliding into Doyoung’s hair. Doyoung feels blissful as he licks at Jeno’s bottom lip, hands sleeping from his cheeks to his shoulders, gripping a little when Jeno opens his mouth under his, inviting the kiss to get deeper. _ _

__But before it can, Jeno laughs, pulling back and following up with a couple of softer, chaster kisses to Doyoung’s lips, cheek, and chin._ _

__“Careful with the suit, hyung. It’s a tearaway.”_ _

__Doyoung laughs._ _

__;;_ _

__The living-room is completely dark, apart from the lights coming from the television, where the credits are just starting on the latest episode of What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim that Doyoung and Johnny were watching. It’s one of these traditions that became one without really trying to - once a week, they’ll sit down and watch a couple episodes of a drama, going through show after show. They recently finished Hotel Del Luna. Now it’s time for Secretary Kim._ _

__Johnny huffs out a breath. “How many more episodes before they kiss? They obviously want to!”_ _

__Doyoung chuckles, patting Johnny’s shoulder as he leans towards the table for the remote. “It’s going to take a while longer, hyung. You know how it goes, it always takes around 10 or so episodes. It feels earned.”_ _

__Johnny crosses his arms over his chest. “You’d know, huh?”_ _

__Doyoung flushes in the dark. He knows exactly what Johnny is referring to, considering he was the one who found Doyoung and Jeno tangled up together backstage after the orchestra auction and, so far, he’s still the only one who knows about this new development in Doyoung’s life._ _

__“Know what?” he asks anyway, playing along. Johnny smirks._ _

__“You’d know how it feels, for a steamy kiss to feel _earned_ ,” he replies, then elbows Doyoung in the side, making kissy faces at him. “Have you seen him since, by the way?”_ _

__Doyoung tries not to pout. “No. We’ve both been busy.”_ _

__“Hmm,” Johnny, ever perceptive, sees right through Doyoung at the best and worst of times. Doyoung isn’t sure what kind of time he’s in right now, but at least, he knows he can count on Johnny to help him unravel his thoughts a bit. He hasn’t realized, actually, just how badly he wants to _talk_ about this, until right now, when he presses his lips together and waits for Johnny to finish. “Are you sure there’s no other reason?” _ _

__Doyoung releases the breath he was holding. “Hyung,” he says, voice plaintive. “I’m fucking terrified.”_ _

__Johnny laughs, but it’s not unkind. If anything, it sounds a little startled, like he didn’t expect Doyoung to admit it so easily, which is fair enough. Call it the Jeno effect?_ _

__“Why?”_ _

__Doyoung scoffs. “Why? _Why_? Because he’s been sculpted out of marble while I’m - not? Because he’s so effortlessly hot and he can get anyone on their knees and somehow picked me, and what if I get too nervous and fuck everything up? God, what if it’s terrible! What if it’s not! And then I’m ruined for life!” _ _

__With a hand to Doyoung’s shoulder, Johnny presses a thumb against the back of his neck, soothing. “Alright, alright, no need to panic. Breathe, Doyoungie, okay? And take it one step at a time. So what if he looks the way he does? You really need to stop putting yourself down, for one, and also, don’t forget that yeah, at the end of the day, the guy picked you. He thinks the entire sun shines right out of your ass, Doyoungie. Does anything else matter?”_ _

__Doyoung makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat, but. He knows Johnny has a point, and he knows that he’s not exactly being rational, here. He’s just scared that they’ll have sex, and he’ll be bad, and Jeno will leave._ _

__He doesn’t want Jeno to leave._ _

__“Second,” Johnny continues, piercing through the fog of Doyoung’s anxiety, “it’s not like sex is this one immovable unchangeable act that we all perform the same. So what if it’s bad the first time? You change it up, you try again. You rehearse. We both know if there’s something you’re good at, it’s rehearsing something until you’re fucking perfect at it.”_ _

__Johnny is wearing a smirk when Doyoung finally looks at him, and he can’t help but laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. The thing is, Johnny’s not wrong. Doyoung is most definitely very used to rehearsing and switching things up until he’s got a piece down, so._ _

__“Are you telling me I should be learning to play him like I play the piano?”_ _

__Johnny guffaws, his loud and obnoxious laugh, the one that always makes Doyoung’s heart pinch with the fondness he feels for Johnny. He feels that way whenever Taeyong does his little breathy laugh, too. Doyoung really loves his friends._ _

__“I’m saying, whatever works for you, Doyoungie. If you like each other as much as I believe you do, then you’ll work it out. It’s just sex.”_ _

__Doyoung throws a pillow at his face. “Says the guy who can get a date by just winking!”_ _

__;;_ _

__For Jeno’s birthday, Doyoung takes him out, and goes full-on with it. There’s flowers, a carriage ride through Central Park because Jeno mentioned once that he’s always wanted to do that like in the movies, dinner in a fancy restaurant downtown. Doyoung is known for some extravagant gifts at times, but this time, he just slips the carefully wrapped present across the table, and watched, pleased, as Jeno’s eyes light up when he opens it and lifts up the simple cashmere scarf. It’s not obnoxious but it’s very nicely made._ _

__“I thought it’d suit you, even if we’re heading into warmer months.”_ _

__“Hyung, I love it. It’s so _soft_ ,” Jeno exclaims, rubbing it against his cheek and making Doyoung laugh. _ _

__He doesn’t say no when Jeno asks if he wants to come back to his after dinner. Jeno has to work, and they both know it - birthdays are always celebrated and fun, Jeno said, and Doyoung would be remiss to keep him from celebrating with his friends and colleagues. But he still says yes when offered a nightcap, and doesn’t move Jeno’s hand away when he settles it high on Doyoung’s thigh in the Lyft ride over._ _

__They stumble through the apartment in the dark, kissing clumsily and enthusiastically, Jeno’s hands pulling Doyoung’s shirt tails out of his pants, and most of Doyoung’s worries fly right out of his head when they step into Jeno’s room, breathless and clothes askew. Doyoung feels Jeno swallow hard under his lips._ _

__“Doyoung-hyung,” he says softly, and Doyoung pulls back to be able to look at Jeno, give him all of his attention in the streetlight painted room. Jeno grins, but it’s so gentle - it’s happy, and Doyoung feels weak in the knees. “Thank you for tonight. I’ve never been… treated like that. I had a really good time.”_ _

__If Doyoung was melting just looking at Jeno, now he’s absolutely a puddle. He actually has to sit down, perching himself at the very edge of Jeno’s bed, in disbelief that no one before him would give Jeno everything they’re made of, and then a little more. He looks up at Jeno. “I’m glad I could do this for you. I had a great time, too.”_ _

__Jeno swallows again, and then steps forward again, the slight urgency from earlier having calmed down to making Doyoung feel like every second is a slow drag of honey against the back of his tongue. Doyoung opens his legs to welcome Jeno in between them when he walks close enough, and Doyoung lets the _need_ he feels take over, overwhelming and so full of anticipation he trembles with it. He pushes forward, burying his face against the solid wall of Jeno’s stomach, feeling the muscles clench, hearing Jeno’s sharp intake of breath and the way he suddenly takes a hold of a fistful of Doyoung’s hair, without pulling. _ _

__“Hyung,” he breathes out, like it’s punched out of him, and Doyoung hums, eyes fluttering closed. This is it, for him, his chance to prove to Jeno that he doesn’t always have to be the one to make the first move, that Doyoung is learning to be more assertive, to go for what he wants, because he knows they both want it in equal measures. He wants to learn Jeno inside out, just like he knows everything about his piano._ _

__Reaching for the waistband of Jeno’s pants, he tugs the button down shirt from it, and starts undoing the buttons, from the bottom up, deft fingers making quick work of them. Jeno is breathing hard already, looking down at Doyoung and not relaxing his hold on Doyoung’s hair; every time he tugs, a fiery spark drifts down Doyoung’s spine. He smiles when he has to pull back for the buttons that were under his lips moments before, and just leans back in after they’re undone, pushing the sides of Jeno’s shirt to be able to kiss him, skin mind-shatteringly soft and warm against Doyoung’s lips as he lets them travel, wanting to taste every inch of Jeno’s skin. Letting his eyes drift closed, Doyoung breathes slow and deep as he presses lingering kisses against Jeno’s stomach, devotion into every move. Jeno lets out a keening noise, his chest heaving._ _

__Doyoung has never felt this powerful in his entire life._ _

__“Got a question for you, Jeno-yah. Got several, actually.”_ _

__Doyoung looks up, his hands on Jeno’s hips, his chin resting above Jeno’s belly-button. Jeno blinks, like he’s pulling himself from a daze. His fingers finally release their hold on Doyoung’s hair, and he tries not to frown at the loss._ _

__“Huh?”_ _

__“You’re okay with us taking our time, right? Tonight, and - other times, too. Because I know you have to work tonight so our time is limited, but I really want to… not rush. Take my time discovering you, what you like, and vice versa. Is that okay?”_ _

__Jeno laughs, but it’s feeble, obviously affected. “Shit, hyung, I’m supposed to be the one that’s all sexy and confident, and yet here you are, killing me. But yeah, I’m - I’m fine with that. More than fine. Fuck, I have no idea how I’m going to get on stage later and not think of this,” he says, chuckling again as he looks down at Doyoung. “So hot,” he breathes, and Doyoung hides his face in Jeno’s stomach again, self-conscious all over again, even as he laughs, too. “What were your other questions?”_ _

__“Oh, well, there’s this one imp-”_ _

__A voice interrupts him, accompanied by Jeno’s bedroom door opening wide and banging against the wall, startling both Doyoung and Jeno._ _

__“Yo, birthday boy, are you getting ready or wha - oh, _shit_ , ah, my _eyes_ , Jeno-yah, why didn’t you say something!” _ _

__Jeno reaches for a pillow at Doyoung’s side, throwing it over at - Jaemin? Jeno’s roommate and best friend. He’d wager that’s the one._ _

__“Out, Jaemin-ah!” Jeno exclaims, but it doesn’t really sound angry._ _

__“You’re gonna be late!” Jaemin sing-songs from just outside. He’s not closed the door. A second later, when Doyoung and Jeno have sadly pulled apart and Jeno is buttoning up his shirt again - because Jaemin is right, they totally lost track of time and he does have to get going - Jaemin pokes his head back in, flashing Doyoung a huge grin._ _

__“It’s nice to finally meet you, Doyoung-ssi!”_ _

__He disappears again, and Doyoung feels a little stunned, but also amused. Warm. Jeno sighs. “Sorry about him, really.”_ _

__Doyoung shakes his head as he stands up, smiling. “It’s okay. He’s right, anyway.”_ _

__“Do you want to - stay here, tonight? I’ll be back in the morning.”_ _

__Doyoung’s stomach swoops with desire, with wanting to wake up and see Jeno slip into bed, to fall back asleep tangled up under the sheets. But it’s Jeno’s birthday, and a party awaits him. He shakes his head, softening it with a kiss, lingering._ _

__“It’s your birthday. Go and celebrate and have fun without having to worry about me seeing you drunk or hungover. I’ve had my fair share of you for tonight, I think. It’d be greedy to stay.”_ _

__Jeno whines cutely. “I don’t mind if you’re greedy,” he says, but sighs, leaning in for another kiss. “But I get it. You’re right. You’re taking the subway? I am, so we could go together?”_ _

__Doyoung nods, feeling light on his feet. “Yeah.”_ _

__Jeno laces their fingers together, and Doyoung doesn’t pull away._ _

__;;_ _

__Putting the mic down after his (beautiful, in his own opinion) rendition of Bruno Mars’ _Grenade_ , Doyoung steps off the front of the small karaoke room he and his friends are all packed in. It’s hot in there, smells of beer and bulgogi, but it’s exactly what makes it feel comfortable; it reminds them all of the noraebangs back home - it looks exactly the same, too, which is why Doyoung likes the coming to karaoke in K-Town. He sits heavily next to Taeyong, laughing helplessly as Mark and Donghyuck step up to the mic. This is sure to be a performance. _ _

__Taeyong punches him lightly in the thigh. “Why didn’t you bring Jeno?” he asks over Donghyuck’s wailing, and Doyoung raises an eyebrow, reaching for a beer bottle on the table. He isn’t sure who started it, but it doesn’t really matter._ _

__“Let me quote you, hyung: ‘karaoke nights are a healing time for the inner circle only’. I didn’t want him to be left out the door.”_ _

__Taeyong rolls his eyes. “You’re dating, we wouldn’t leave him out.”_ _

__Doyoung shrugs, because honestly, sometimes it’s difficult to know. And he doesn’t mind, either - it’s not because they’re dating that they have to be attached at the hip. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and so far, it’s made Doyoung anticipate every moment spent with Jeno, though nerves and happiness threaten to overwhelm him every time._ _

__“He’s out with his own friends tonight. We’re not - codependent.”_ _

__The _not like we were_ is left unsaid, and Taeyong huffs out a laugh, letting it go. Doyoung drapes an arm around his shoulders. _ _

__“C’mere. Let’s send him a selfie.” And so they do, both of them making peace signs at Doyoung’s phone camera, Doyoung still holding his beer by the neck. He sends the picture to Jeno, before elbowing Taeyong’s side, pointing at Mark and Donghyuck with his chin._ _

__“Are Yuta and Johnny still running a betting pool for when these two will sort themselves out?”_ _

__“Listen to you, Doyoungie,” Taeyong says teasingly. “Dating expert now, aren’t you?”_ _

__With a horrified look, Doyoung shakes his head. “Fuck no. But for the record I was already wondering that last year. They’ve been dancing that dance for a long time now.”_ _

__Taeyong shrugs. “It’s complicated. Mark’s just met a new guy, too. Jungwoo. He likes him.”_ _

__“Well, damn. Our little Mark Lee, a heartbreaker. We should keep an eye on Hyuckie, huh?”_ _

__Taeyong nods, eyeing the two that are just finishing their duet, arms crossed, Mark grinning at Donghyuck’s impressive last note. He knows Donghyuck will be fine, no matter what happens, but he can’t help but worry. He turns back to Taeyong._ _

__“What about you, hyung?”_ _

__“What about me?”_ _

__Doyoung laughs; he recalls doing exactly that himself. He relaxes against the cheap plastic couch, giving Taeyong a look. “Met anyone recently?”_ _

__Taeyong flushes, obvious even under the disco lights. For once, it doesn’t make Doyoung’s heart feel sore, not like it used to whenever he heard Taeyong talk about moving on in any way, when he still had a faint hope that they were going to work out. They were never going to work out, he knows that now, and he’s glad for it, because Taeyong is his best friend, and one of the most important people in Doyoung’s life, and he would trade it for nothing in the world. So he smiles, elbowing Taeyong again as he leans close. “You have!”_ _

__Taeyong pushes Doyoung’s face away, grunting. “Get out of my face. It’s - new. I’m feeling it out.”_ _

__Doyoung’s phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out, smiling bright when he’s greeted with a picture of Jeno, with Jaemin on his back, and a couple of other guys he doesn’t know surrounding them. They all look like they’re laughing. Doyoung sends back a heart emoji before focusing back on Taeyong, the gesture entirely natural._ _

__“I know you don’t care about my well-wishes or anything, but. Good for you, Taeyongie-hyung.”_ _

__Taeyong smiles back this time, even though he doesn’t have a chance to respond before Yuta is pulling him from his seat to go sing._ _

__;;_ _

__Jeno texts Doyoung to come to a dance studio downtown when they next find time to spend together, because he’s rehearsing and there’s a really good Thai restaurant right around the corner where he wants to take Doyoung. Doyoung readily agrees, glad to be getting out of his own rehearsal space, in which he’s been holed up for days - his next concert is coming up soon, forcing Doyoung to rehearse _even more_. That’s the thing about being a concert pianist; he doesn’t participate in every concert, but when he does, all eyes are on _him_. He can’t afford to be anything shy of perfect._ _

__When he gets to the place, music is blasting, and Doyoung winces a little as he walks in, quickly finding the studio in which Jeno is rehearsing. He’s alone, thin white vest sticking to his back with sweat as he twirls around a - pole. _Oh_. So that’s what he was rehearsing. Doyoung swallows, his throat feeling suddenly dry. _ _

__“Hey,” he says over the music as he walks closer, his sneakers squeaking against the springy wooden floor. “Don’t let me interrupt you, by all means. I’m happy to watch.”_ _

__Jeno laughs, having stopped moving when he heard Doyoung. His eyes are dark when they catch Doyoung’s in the mirror. “Yeah, I know.”_ _

__Him and many others, but Doyoung’s the one to get to see Jeno like this, the raw version, without the lights and the glitter. He’s even more beautiful like this, to Doyoung._ _

__But instead of starting again, Jeno holds out a hand to Doyoung, who doesn’t hesitate to take it, letting himself be pulled closer. “You ever tried, Doyoung-hyung?”_ _

__Doyoung gives Jeno an incredulous look. “You’ve met me, Jeno-yah. You know the answer to that.”_ _

__Jeno laughs, putting Doyoung’s hand on the pole, a welcome shock of cold metal to Doyoung’s skin. “You want to try?”_ _

__“These pants aren’t really made for it,” Doyoung replies, motioning to his skinny jeans. But again, he’s not one to back down from a challenge, so he nods nervously. “But sure, I’ll give it a try. What do I do?”_ _

__That one question leads to a half-hour lesson from Jeno on how to pole-dance, which Doyoung retains very little of, but he does his best to try, hooking a leg around the pole and letting himself go, Jeno’s hands hovering close in case he loses momentum. Jeno proves, once more, to be a kind teacher, not laughing at Doyoung’s attempts, only encouraging him, laughing delightedly when Doyoung spins with both legs around the pole, a feat that makes his core muscles burn._ _

__When he gets back to the floor, Jeno claps, before hooking his chin over Doyoung’s shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. “What do you know, maybe we’ll make a stripper out of you.”_ _

__Doyoung snorts, leaning his head against Jeno’s. “We’d have to work on a lot more than just my dancing to make me one,” he says, and Jeno grins, kissing Doyoung’s cheek quickly before pulling back._ _

__“Well, we’re just getting started. Are you okay to wait for me while I shower? And then we can go. I’ll be quick.”_ _

__“Yeah, of course.”_ _

__Jeno jogs out of the studio, leaving Doyoung alone in the big, bright room, skylights flooding the whole place with sunshine. Jeno’s playlist is still playing, too, and Doyoung lets the music take over every square inch of the space as he looks at himself lean back against the pole, mind going over many persisting thoughts._ _

__He remembers the first time he danced with Jeno. He remembers the first time Jeno called him sexy. He’s thinking about it now, as he looks at himself, and he thinks. He thinks maybe, he sees it. Maybe, in a way, he sees why Jeno thinks that way. Doyoung reaches up to the top button of his shirt, undoing it, exposing collarbones._ _

__The song shifts from Britney to what he recognizes as the only Nine Inch Nails song he’s ever heard before. A song that’s definitely meant for a grinding, heavy striptease. Doyoung bites his lip, runs a hand through his hair as he takes a step closer to the mirror, eyes drifting down the length of his legs. They’re long, and look even longer in the black jeans he’s wearing. He thinks about dancing with Jeno again, feeling him against his back, his hands guiding Doyoung’s hips, and he finds himself moving without even thinking, just a little._ _

__It feels like something new. Like something clicks in his head. He’s always seen himself as a nerd, too busy focusing on his own music to really listen to anyone else’s. He’s seen himself as undateable, unlovable, because he’s always loved music more than most people, and also because he was unremarkable in his looks. He’s not like Taeyong who’s also obsessed with music but gets to be strikingly beautiful at the same time, attracting people to him like moths to a flame, Doyoung included._ _

__But now. Now, he sees something else. He sees long legs and long fingers and a long neck. He sees expressive eyes, sharp features. He sees someone that can be enticing when the layer of anxiety is scrubbed away, allowing him to feel comfortable. The music dips, goes into the chorus, the very explicit lyrics making Doyoung shiver a little as he tips his head back, lifts his chin, and runs a hand delicately down his neck, into the open collar of his shirt._ _

__He doesn’t miss Jeno coming back into the room and freezing in the doorway, but it doesn’t stop him, either. He’s not sure if he could ever do what Jeno does, but this pair of eyes he wants on him. This one pair of eyes that he meets in the mirror as Jeno starts moving, coming close, fitting himself against Doyoung’s back, just like that first time they danced. He snakes a hand on Doyoung’s hip, and then curls it into the leather of his belt as he looks at Doyoung over the jut of his shoulder. His breathing is hot and damp against the back of Doyoung’s shirt, and his hair is still wet, drops falling irregularly to darken the light blue material of his hoodie._ _

__“You see what I see now, don’t you?” Jeno asks, voice a little rough. Doyoung hums, eyes heavy-lidded as they meet Jeno’s again._ _

__Doyoung takes Jeno’s free hand in his own, splays it over his stomach as he lets his head fall back against Jeno’s shoulder, his back arched. Jeno’s fingers catch in the fabric of Doyoung’s shirt, slip in between two buttons, skin finding skin for a second, and when Trent Reznor sings _You get me closer to God_ , Doyoung _feels_ it, through his whole body. He gasps, and Jeno kisses his shoulder through his shirt, his eyes impossibly dark, full of want. _ _

__Doyoung can’t take it anymore. He spins in Jeno’s arms, hands catching on fabric, and looks down at him, pressing his forehead to Jeno’s._ _

__“Fuck the restaurant,” he says, breathless with it. “Let’s go back to mine.”_ _

__“ _Please_.”_ _

__;;_ _

__On the ride back, his leg bouncing against the car door, Doyoung texts Johnny, giving him a heads up that he’s coming back with Jeno - the kind of thing they do nowadays, after years of living together. He’s not had to send such texts very often, but they’re still both used to them, and he can trust that Johnny will make himself scarce. He’s still making up for the Great Ballet Disaster of 2016._ _

__Doyoung does _not_ need any roommate barging in tonight._ _

__It’s very obvious that both himself and Jeno are practically vibrating with nerves and anticipation, but it makes the whole journey back to Doyoung’s apartment even funnier, as they keep catching each other’s eye and giggling, hands slipping against knees and sides in the back of the taxi, all the while Jeno tries to maintain a polite conversation with their driver. Doyoung doesn’t think they’re exactly being subtle, but surprisingly, he also finds that he doesn’t fully care, either; he’s sure the man has seen worse._ _

__They maintain the same energy all the way home, and all the way to Doyoung’s room, where the touching just becomes fraught, hands grabbing and breaths mingling before they’re kissing, Doyoung shedding his jacket as they walk to the bed, laughing more when they’re bouncing down onto it, Jeno relaxing against the mattress._ _

__“Better quality than mine,” he murmurs with a giggle, stretching his arms above his head, exposing his stomach, Doyoung’s breath catches as he puts his hand to the strip of skin, fingers dancing along Jeno’s waistband, looking down to watch his index finger run down the dip of Jeno’s hip bone. When he looks back up, he sees Jeno is still smiling, but his cheeks are flushed red, his bottom lip between his teeth._ _

__Doyoung leans up, kissing Jeno’s cheek, the jut of his jaw, as his hand slips further under Jeno’s hoodie, making him realize it’s the only layer he’s wearing, which sends a bolt of arousal straight down through Doyoung. He pulls back, kneeling by Jeno’s side, still luxuriating on Doyoung’s expensive sheets. “Damn,” he whispers, awed. “You look incredible.”_ _

__Jeno giggles again, hiding his face with an arm, and Doyoung has to grin._ _

__“Am I making you shy, Jeno-yah? Didn’t think that was possible.”_ _

__“I’m not even naked and you’re saying that,” Jeno retorts, sitting up a little to take his hoodie off in one smooth move, which, yeah, sure, expected, but also - it still leaves Doyoung breathless._ _

__“I mean it - you look incredible with or without your clothes on,” he manages to say, moving to straddle Jeno’s legs, running his hands through his hair and tipping his head back a little, loving the feeling when Jeno wraps his arms around his waist. Jeno keeps on making Doyoung feel safe, and so thoroughly cocooned in warmth and fondness and desire; it’s an incomparable feeling._ _

__They have different vulnerabilities, but Doyoung hopes he provides the same kind of feeling to Jeno. When Jeno smiles a little dopily at him, eyes crinkling with it, Doyoung thinks he does, and it makes his heart soar even higher._ _

__“I’d like to see _you_ with your clothes off,” Jeno says, leaning in to push the collar of Doyoung’s shirt to the side a little, eyes drifting down. “All I’ve ever seen of you are those incredible collarbones.” _ _

__He moves swiftly then, kissing along the straight line of Doyoung’s collarbone, wet hot filthy presses of lips and tongue that make Doyoung’s blood rush south so fast he feels dizzy with it. His fingers grip Jeno’s shoulder, and he arches into Jeno when he feels him start up on the buttons of his shirt. Plenty of times, Doyoung has looked at himself critically, and he’s never felt like he had much to offer - especially in comparison to someone like Jeno, who looks like he should be a sculptor’s muse - but right now, he feels nothing but excited anticipation._ _

__He might not think anything, but the thing is, he knows what Jeno thinks. Jeno, for some reason, thinks that Doyoung is beautiful, and sexy, and he _wants_ to see Doyoung naked. Doyoung would be the last person in the world to refuse him that. Looking at Doyoung, Jeno pushes his shirt off of his shoulders, and Doyoung finishes shrugging it off, throwing it to the floor like everything else so far, letting Jeno look and touch, his breath short. _ _

__He doesn’t spend very long looking, surprising Doyoung when he leans in again, resuming his series of kisses, this time lower, the expanse of Doyoung’s chest offered to him. His hands bracket Doyoung’s hips, feeling like two brands against Doyoung’s skin, and he’s rendered absolutely speechless as he tips his head back, fingers messing up Jeno’s hair as Jeno explores him with hands, lips, and tongue._ _

__Doyoung’s stomach clenches with desire, and he looks back down, kissing the top of Jeno’s head, moving down to his forehead, his temple, forcing him away from his ministrations to kiss him, overwhelmed with the feelings in his chest. It’s like Jeno is cracking him open with the strength of his gentleness, and Doyoung needs to be allowed to give back. He licks into Jeno’s mouth, swallowing the moan Jeno lets out as his fingers dig into Doyoung’s sides. The kiss quickly turns intense, Doyoung feeling like he’s floating somewhere close to the ceiling when Jeno sucks on his bottom lip, and they fall back to the bed, pressed together._ _

__When they pull back, it’s only for more kisses, both of them targeting any skin they can get their lips on, and it’s messy and urgent and it’s _fun_ , Doyoung letting out a chuckle when Jeno’s jeans button catches on his belt. _ _

__“Think that’s a sign to get them off, huh?”_ _

__Jeno lets out a groan, lifting his hips off the bed with an amused glint in his eyes. “Oh, _please_ , I’m losing my mind,” he mutters, and Doyoung laughs even more, all the while kneeling again to get Jeno’s jeans open. His eyes flick up to Jeno, who seems to get what he’s wordlessly asking, because he hooks his thumbs into his underwear, starting to push them, and his jeans off of him. _ _

__“I just - god, hyung, I need you naked right now,” he says as he shifts to kick the rest of his clothes off, not giving Doyoung the time to just appreciate the view before he tackled to the bed, Jeno attacking his belt with renewed vigor. Doyoung bites down on a moan as he helps Jeno divest him of his clothes, too, and finally, _finally_ , they’re both naked, and Doyoung hauls Jeno in for another kiss, demanding and needy. Jeno is hard, pressing against Doyoung’s stomach, and Doyoung rolls his hips up, letting their cocks brush, making Jeno choke on a breath as he breaks the kiss, panting against Doyoung’s neck. _ _

__Emboldened, Doyoung reaches down, wrapping a hand around both of their cocks, thumb brushing the head of Jeno’s before his own, making him gasp as Jeno lets out a sobbing noise, pushing his hips towards Doyoung’s hand. It makes Doyoung’s head spin._ _

__“Fuck, you’re so - responsive,” Doyoung breathes out, the words sticking to his tongue. Jeno keens in answer, fucking into Doyoung’s hold, the head of his cock dragging against the underside of Doyoung’s, making him moan. Maybe it’s because they’re finally allowing themselves this after what feels like months of dancing around each other (or, well, Doyoung dancing while Jeno stood firm and clear on his intentions), Doyoung isn’t sure, but he sure is absolutely, positively dying for more, ears straining to hear every single one of Jeno’s noises, heart rabbit-fast in his chest, which feels full to the brim with all sorts of feelings._ _

__“Doyoung -” Jeno pauses, his hips stuttering. Doyoung squeezes his fingers a little tighter, making them both groan loudly. “ _Hyung_ , I want -”_ _

__Jeno stops again, and Doyoung nudges Jeno’s cheek with his nose. Jeno rolls them to their sides, so he can lie his head on the sheets and look at Doyoung. He looks wrecked, flush high on his cheeks and traveling down his chest, breathing hard. He looks breathtaking, and Doyoung loves him._ _

__“What do you want, baby?” Doyoung asks, testing out the word, if it fits Jeno, if he likes it. His own voice sounds rough, words difficult as he thinks hard about saying them, his brain flooded with pleasure and arousal rather than his usual quick-wit._ _

__From the way Jeno’s eyes flash, Doyoung guesses the choice of words was a good one. Jeno reaches up, framing Doyoung’s face with a hand, and Doyoung’s eyes flutter closed as he turns to kiss his palm, before murmuring. “Tell me what you want.”_ _

__“I want you to fuck me,” Jeno says finally, which takes Doyoung by surprise. He’d assumed - he’d assumed, and he shouldn’t have. He grins, kissing along Jeno’s wrist, his forearm, as he moves closer and closer, draping Jeno’s arm over his shoulder._ _

__“Yeah?” he asks, just to be sure, and Jeno gives him a blinding smile, nodding._ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__Doyoung grins back, and rolls them over again, hand letting go of their cocks as he kneels up between Jeno’s legs, and spends a moment just. Looking. He’s seen it before - he’s seen Jeno bending himself backwards as he danced, wearing the bare minimum, but it is so entirely different from seeing him now. Here, now, the only person he’s giving himself to is Doyoung, and he is doing so in such a vulnerable, open way, a way that feels loving in itself, Doyoung thinks back of all his worries about doing things right and being good, and he realizes what Johnny was saying even more starkly now. It doesn’t matter, because it’s _them_ , and if they fail, they can just keep trying. It feels so simple now that Doyoung doesn’t know why he worried at all._ _

__He kisses Jeno, but it’s brief, before he moves down his neck, his world entirely fading to this and his desire to worship Jeno. Doyoung can taste the salt of sweat on his skin as he kisses his way to a nipple, focusing on it while reaching out a hand for the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out lube and a condom in a few clumsy movements, leaving them on the bed by Jeno’s side. Doyoung feels like he’s on the edge of a blade, unable to breathe and taking his very first breath at the same time. When Jeno moans, when he arches his back wantonly, when he chokes out Doyoung’s name, it’s oxygen through Doyoung’s system. He pulls back reluctantly after a while, with one last nip to Jeno’s chest before he focuses on lubing up his fingers. Both of them are hard and leaking, both of them are panting loudly, and when Doyoung looks up, he finds that both of them are smiling, which makes him chuckle, until Jeno spreads his legs wider around him, cutting off the sound abruptly._ _

__“Say if anything doesn’t feel good,” Doyoung says softly, and Jeno nods, bending a leg. Doyoung leans forward on his knees, and presses the tip of his finger against Jeno, waiting a second before pushing in, taking his time with it. He doesn’t know when Jeno last had sex, and he’s not about to rush this crucial part just because he’s too horny. As they both get used to each other, Doyoung wraps his other arm around Jeno’s knee, bringing it close, kissing his kneecap, laying his cheek against it as he watches Jeno’s reactions to Doyoung starting to move his finger._ _

__Jeno moves his hips, all fluid and entrancing, and he’s soon enough asking for more, which Doyoung provides with care and barely repressed anticipation, feeling Jeno’s thigh muscles contract under his free hand. Doyoung wants to say so much - he wants to talk about how Jeno’s body moves like a piano melody, a steady crescendo towards a cascade of notes that crash together in a beautiful, powerful mess; how he sounds like Doyoung’s favorite song, how he looks like Doyoung’s recurring daydreams. He wants to say all of these things but he doesn’t, the words caught in his chest with the strongest of his feelings._ _

__It’s when Jeno reaches for him, fingers trembling as they hold onto Doyoung’s forearms, pulling him closer, kissing him messy and needy, breathing hard through his nose, that Doyoung knows they’re both ready. And he's glad for it, too, because he’s also feeling like he’s losing his mind, and he knows he’s probably not going to last, but he also doesn’t care, because he gets to do this with Jeno, be as close to him as humanly possible, show him all the ways Doyoung wants to love him._ _

__“Please, hyung,” Jeno says against Doyoung’s lips, arching his body against the bed like he knows how to, enticing and transfixing and gorgeous, and Doyoung nods, running his clean hand down Jeno’s side._ _

__“So beautiful,” he whispers, more to himself than to Jeno, but it still makes Jeno chuckle lightly, wriggling on the bed like he’s embarrassed. Doyoung doesn’t let him move away, kissing him again, until they’re both breathless and Jeno is rutting up, rubbing himself against Doyoung’s stomach. The enthusiasm is endearing._ _

__After getting the condom on himself, which takes longer than Doyoung would like all things considered, but - whatever, at least he got it on, he finally lines himself up and pushes into Jeno. Moving to the sound of Jeno’s broken moan, followed by demands for more already, Doyoung shivers, needing a moment to adjust to the mindblowing feeling of Jeno all around him, so hot and sucking him in deeper. He feels so incredible, it’s Doyoung’s turn to let out a wrecked sob when he bottoms out._ _

__He’s not still for very long, Jeno’s stream of curses and begging leading Doyoung to move, wanting to give Jeno exactly what he wants, and hopefully more. It’s not a graceful performance overall; both of them barely coherent, gripping at each other and kissing breathlessly - more often just a press of lips while they pant against each other’s mouths, and Doyoung’s rhythm kicking up a notch with the way Jeno locks his ankles against the small of Doyoung’s back._ _

__Doyoung looks straight into Jeno’s eyes, reaching between their bodies to wrap his hand around Jeno’s cock again, precome easing the way when he moves, in rhythm with his hips, making Jeno cry out, body a sinuous curve as he throws his head back, legs squeezing around Doyoung’s hips._ _

__Doyoung dips his head, kissing Jeno anywhere he can reach, all the while Jeno holds on to him, seemingly focusing on breathing, which is more than enough for Doyoung. Jeno slides his hands in his hair again, grabbing and holding on, and Doyoung feels his ass clench around his cock, which makes him moan, pressing the sound into Jeno’s skin._ _

__“You c-close, baby?” he asks, this time, the endearment falling out of his mouth easily. He circles the head of Jeno’s cock with his index and thumb, rubbing the slit, and Jeno chokes on his breaths as he nods, cheeks ruddy red._ _

__“So close,” he manages to say, and Doyoung nods, satisfied._ _

__“I’ve got you,” he says, saying the words in Jeno’s ear, and Jeno comes._ _

__It seems to take him by surprise, but Doyoung savors every second of it, pulling back a little to watch, witness the way Jeno’s abs contract and the way his legs spasm, and how he squeezes Doyoung so tight inside him he has to stop moving for a blissful moment. Doyoung watches it all with rapt interest, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to lick them clean, as Jeno lets out a loud, heartfelt groan under him._ _

__“Fuck, hyung, warn a guy,” he says, and when Doyoung looks at him, he finds Jeno staring straight back, breathing hard but looking extremely focused anyway. Instead of replying anything, Doyoung drags his thumb against his own lips, and then he rocks his hips forward, thrusting deep inside Jeno, who cries out again, hands flying out to grip onto the sheets. “ _Fuck!” He exclaims again, this time louder.__ _

___“Too much?” Doyoung asks, and Jeno shakes his head, tightening his legs around Doyoung._ _ _

___“Don’t stop,” he says softly, and so Doyoung doesn’t. If anything, he goes harder now, the end goal being his own orgasm, and Jeno encourages him, takes him further and further as Doyoung fucks him hard and fast, his forehead tucked into the curve of Jeno’s neck. Jeno keeps on talking, murmuring praise into Doyoung’s hair, but he’s too far gone to hear it, and when he comes, it crashes over him like a tidal wave._ _ _

___He shakes through it, hands around Jeno’s biceps, mouth to his pulse point. It’s entirely too much to process, and it’s absolutely perfect at the same time, and Doyoung wants to stay in this state where he’s barely aware of his own body forever. Sadly, he can’t, and he winces as he pulls out of Jeno, an indeterminate amount of time later, his fingers feeling clumsy as he disposes of the condom._ _ _

___His limbs feel like jelly, but he still manages to get up, and go to his ensuite to grab a flannel to clean Jeno up with. When he comes back, Jeno is comfortable under the sheets, and Doyoung blinks at the sight, getting an alarmed look in answer._ _ _

___“You didn’t - want me to leave, did you?”_ _ _

___Doyoung startles. “What? No, _no_ , absolutely not. I was just. Enjoying the view.” _ _ _

___Jeno’s face relaxes into one of his adorable grins, and he holds a hand out to Doyoung. “Well, come enjoy it from here,” he says, and Doyoung obeys, slipping under the sheets as well, and then focusing on cleaning them up before they get too settled. Once that’s done, Jeno snuggles close, and Doyoung kisses his forehead, resting there for a moment._ _ _

___They’ll probably talk about what just happened, but in that moment, they just fall asleep, curved towards each other like parentheses._ _ _

___;;_ _ _

___Doyoung wakes up a few hours later, spine stiff and bladder protesting. He extricates himself from Jeno’s warmth reluctantly, smiling when Jeno just grunts and burrows deeper into the pillows, exposed shoulder blades catching the moonlight, making Doyoung’s heart beat hard in his throat. He tiptoes around the room, slipping his boxers back on and then grabbing Jeno’s hoodie, shrugging it on as he walks to the bathroom._ _ _

___When he comes back, Jeno is still sleeping, making these little snuffly noises that make Doyoung smile to himself as he goes straight to his piano, sitting at the bench and plugging in his headphones, only covering one ear with them. He feels awake, startlingly so, and he feels - inspired. It’s not just because of Jeno, and because of what happened between the two of them earlier, either, it’s an all-encompassing thing, a feeling that’s fueling Doyoung’s smile and the way his fingers tingle with the desire to play._ _ _

___He’s not felt this way in so long. Since he was a teenager, maybe, and playing was the only way he’d found to express the turmoil he felt inside. Or maybe a little later than that, when he spent sleepless nights in his college rehearsal space, sweating over the keys as he tried to show the world what he was made of, how much this mattered to him. After all that, the incomparable passion of years that feel like a blur in his head, his adult life has felt - sedate. Too calm, too collected, hiding the way he was allowing his anxieties and insecurities to grow steadily, festering in every exposed part of him, making music feel rote, an obligation beyond any other._ _ _

___He rehearses, because he has to, because through it all, he is a perfectionist, and he does not feel comfortable going up on stage for anything less than a near-flawless performance. But that’s also what made him even more distant to the world, untouchable, cold, according to reviews of his work. Lacking the passion he used to have. Still intense, still technically perfect, but missing something._ _ _

___Here, now, in his bedroom in the middle of the night, Jeno’s smell wrapped around him, Doyoung finds what’s been missing for so long. He plays, and instead of following a rigid structure, he just lets himself follow the music, eyes closing as he smiles, the melody reminding him of one of his favorite Chopin pieces, without strictly following it either. This is just Doyoung, enjoying himself, enjoying doing this first love of his in a way he’s not been able to in what feels like years. He plays, and he thinks of Johnny, and he thinks of Taeyong, and he thinks of Mark and Donghyuck, and he thinks of Jeno, and he thinks of himself, and he feels like crying a little bit._ _ _

___He’s so _lucky_ , and he’s spent so long being worried about stepping a foot wrong, ruining his own career, or that of his friends’, that he didn’t give himself the space to just enjoy the gifts he’d been given. And now, now he’s been given the most beautiful of all gifts, and Doyoung wants to treasure and cherish it as best as he can. He has no clue how, but it seems like walking through blindly works, as long as you communicate? _ _ _

___Doyoung hears said gift move in bed, letting out a confused noise before going quiet again. Doyoung focuses on playing, the notes drifting slower and he brings down the cadence of whatever he’s playing - nothing that he’ll remember tomorrow - just to play with key changes, bringing a more somber mood to the moment, but only for a few phrases before he’s back to a higher key, notes twinkling right out of his fingers. It feels like a journey, like a roller-coaster, highs and lows, the way life is. Doyoung has been at a low, a low he didn’t realize was one, and now he’s been brought up to a high, and he’s soaring, feeling more free than he ever has._ _ _

___There’s a shift next to him, as Jeno leans in, kissing Doyoung’s shoulder through his hoodie, before sitting next to him, straddling the piano bench. Doyoung doesn’t stop, just shifts to accommodate Jeno, smiling at the leg that is thrown over his lap. Jeno leans his cheek against Doyoung’s shoulder, stifling a yawn._ _ _

___“Gotta say, really weird to only hear the sound of the keys, and not the actual music,” he says, voice sleep-warm, and Doyoung hums._ _ _

___“You can unplug the headphones if you want,” he says, feeling Jeno snuggle even closer, slipping a hand into the hoodie front pocket._ _ _

___“What about Johnny-hyung?”_ _ _

___“I doubt he’s here. We usually make ourselves scarce for the other when we have guests over.”_ _ _

___“Oh. Considerate,” Jeno says, before reaching over and unplugging the headphones. Music immediately floods the room, as Doyoung leans closer, stumbling into an arpeggio, fingers dancing over the keys fluidly, completely following wherever his mind takes him, without thinking about it at all._ _ _

___He picks up the rhythm, music cascading out of him in waves, taking him under and spitting him out, over and over, until he ends on a high, with loud, resonating notes that ring in his ears when he finally stops playing. His heart is beating a thousand miles an hour, and he’s breathing hard, brow a little sweaty, and he aches like he’s just run a marathon, but he also loves it. He grins, turning to Jeno, who’s looking back at him with an awed look on his face._ _ _

___“Hyung, that was - _incredible_.” _ _ _

___Doyoung’s never been humble, when it comes to music. He leans in, pressing his forehead to Jeno’s. “Thanks.”_ _ _

___“I hope you know that I’m absolutely, 100% not missing that concert of yours coming up. I wouldn’t have anyway, but now? You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.”_ _ _

___Doyoung chuckles. “Good. I wasn’t going to try.”_ _ _

___Jeno nods, satisfied. “Good. Do you often get these sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of the night?” he asks, shifting ever closer to Doyoung, burying his face in Doyoung’s neck as he wraps both arms around his waist now._ _ _

___“Hm. Sometimes. Why?”_ _ _

___“Just wondering if I have to invest in a keyboard or something to keep at my place.”_ _ _

___Doyoung’s heart lurches in his chest. “God, I love you,” he says, all natural the way he’d tell any of his friends, and it doesn’t even register at first that he just said that, until he hears Jeno’s soft breath, all warm. Doyoung, instead of panicking, finds that it feels right. It’s the truth._ _ _

___“Love you too,” Jeno replies quietly, but with feeling. It means more to Doyoung than any big declaration could. It’s small, and intimate, and feels like something that Jeno is only willing to give _him_. It’s personal and special and beautiful, and Doyoung will cherish it. “Are we going back to bed?” Jeno asks, and Doyoung nods. _ _ _

___“Yeah. Let’s.”_ _ _

___;;_ _ _

___The end!_ _ _

**Author's Note:**

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